Commitment
by WanderingNightmare
Summary: Antpaw is the oldest, but one of the smallest apprentices that has recently moved out of the nursery. He is unfriendly, and independent, though he's also devoted to his training and aims to become one of the best and most respected cats in ShadowClan. When he grows fond of another tom, how does he deal with the struggle between training and love?


Sunlight gently dappled down on the forest floor, and a cool breeze wafted through the air. Stars began to fade in the dawn's light as the peaceful night came to a halt. Clumps of melting snow piled up occasionally in the four territories, but it was becoming rather warm, lately. The transitioning from leafbare to newleaf was here.

It was already lively in the ShadowClan territories. The deputy had just sent out a dawn hunting patrol, and was working on the border patrol to their bordering Clans now. Mentors chattered to their apprentices and told them their schedule, and the elders were already up, likely distracting the kit whom had first awoken to relieve their parents.

With leafbare waving goodbye once again, all was merry. Greencough was just another bad memory to be forgotten, and the medicine cat was working on the last traces of whitecough. Everyone could tell that the moons ahead of them looked to be promising and filled with good times.

It was unfortunate, though, that not all of ShadowClan was happy.

In the furthest, warmest part of the nursery laid a large queen, curled around a single, tiny kitten. The queen, truthfully, was excited for the warmth of newleaf. It was, in fact, the kit who was everything but enthusiastic. His name was Antkit, and he bore a thin black coat, accompanied by his golden gaze.

The kit was five moons old, although in all truth, he looked to be two. He hadn't spoken until he was a moon and a half, and his first words were, "Leave me alone!" Antkit wasn't the happiest kit around. Most of the other kits usually avoided him, when he wasn't sleeping in the nursery. Most kits thought of him as a killjoy- an outcast. Any kit that tried to befriend him was usually met with a growl, and had been dismissed. Some liked to mess with him; they found it amusing when he growled and nipped. No one ever took him seriously, even as he was the oldest kit in the nursery, and that infuriated him the most.

That morning, his mother, Dappledberry, had gently awoken him from his slumber. He peered an eye open in annoyance, but his expression calmed a little seeing it was only his mother talking, and not some pesky young kit trying to bug or befriend him.

"I'm going to sunbathe, darling. If you have any problems, I'll be over there." She flicked her tail to a small group of warriors, all around her age, and Antkit gave an uninterested and dismissive nod, as he buried his head into the bedding. He gave a sigh as he heard her leave.

* * *

He'd slept for a while, until he felt the bedding being picked up from under him, and fell flat on his face on the floor to the nursery. Waking up with a jolt, he hissed, and looked up to see an apprentice, taking the moss out. "Ahem!" he called out, getting the apprentice's attention, so she could see the grass and dirt that gathered on him in bits.

The apprentice held back a snicker. "Sorry. I didn't see you there. All of the other kits are outside, and I guess I was mistaken when I thought you'd be out there, no offense." Antkit just glared, before he shook his head.

"Just get me a new nest, Barkpaw. I was hoping to sleep for a while more before you interrupted me." Antkit watched the brown she-cat leave with the roll of her golden eyes, and satisfied, he sat in the front of the nursery, deciding to warm up a bit while he waited.

He'd been there for literally less than a minute when a big, golden tomkit padded over. He knew the kit's name from how many times he had to yell at him to go away; Lionkit. Everyone expected Lionkit to be the most successful. They'd all predicted he'd make a fine warrior and would probably become deputy or leader, with a beautiful she-cat as his mate and gorgeous kits. He snorted at the idea. The tom was one moon younger than Antkit, but was already bigger than him. Way, way bigger. The size of a six moon old, in fact. He didn't let the tom's size intimidate him, though.

"Hi, Antkit!" he greeted, with a soft smile, seating himself next to the older, yet way smaller kit. Antkit scooted away with a grunt.

"Go away. Can't you and Blossomkit play?" Lionkit gave a stubborn whine.

"She's listening to stories, but I don't wanna listen to stories. I wanna play!"

"Maybe you should listen to the elder's stories.. You'd get something into that thick skull of yours.." Antkit muttered. "Anyways, no. I said go away."

Lionkit was still refusing to move, and looked at Antkit with his notorious big, hazel eyes, that even Antkit couldn't say no to. "Pleeeeeaaaassseee?"

"Ugh, fine. Just whatever." Lionkit bounced up with a smile, and practically skipped over to a small playspace near the nursery that Antkit had seen Lionkit and his friends play multiple times.

As he was led into the space, he saw three other kits, Tigerkit, Stonekit, and Shadekit, all chattering among themselves, until they noticed Lionkit and the tiny Antkit.

"I knew you could get him to come!" the black and white she-kit, Shadekit praised. She had some sort of crush on Antkit, and for the life of the small tom, he couldn't figure out how, or why.

Tigerkit, the brown and white tomkit, just gave a small nod to the both of them. "Sup?"

The only one Antkit could possibly bear was Stonekit, the mute. The gray tom talked little, and many times not at all, and Antkit respected him, more or less.

"So.. what should we play, Antkit?" Lionkit asked with a flick of his ear.

"I don't know.. What do you play?" He'd never really played a game, except Hide N' Seek, although he'd tell the kit to hide and never go look for them.

Lionkit then proceeded on for about ten minutes, talking about his favorites such as Mossball, Hunter and Prey, and Clan Vs. Clan.

"I'll try Mossball, I think," Antkit mewled, unsure.

"I love Mossball!" squealed Shadepaw. Antkit scoffed.

Stonekit had given a small smile as he pulled a small mossball over. Antkit cocked his head. "How do you play?"

The golden tomkit once again took a few minutes to explain the game to the black kit, and he in turn gave a disdainful snort.

"So you just toss the ball around in a circle? What's the fun and competition in that?"

* * *

It turns out Antkit had really enjoyed Mossball, despite denying it and saying he wished he'd never played. He had been really good at the game, and a few cats came over and watched, including his mother, who beamed at the kits' success. Antkit rarely went outside, let alone did he play. And now? He was holding back laughter as he shoved the ball to the other kits.

He'd came back to the nursery, more tired than he'd ever been. He reminded himself that this did not, and would not change his opinion about the others, though he did think of sneaking a few days of playing Mossball again through his final moon at the nursery.

He purred at the smell of fresh moss in the den, and went over to his den, where his mother lay murmuring to herself. As she heard the small kit's paw crunch against a bit of dry moss, she snapped up. "Antkit, can I ask you something, darling?" Her voice was sweeter than usual, so he knew it was of importance.

She continued when he gave a small nod. "I've been talking to a certain someone for a few moons now," she began softly. "We've discussed how your, er, size could be.. how do I put this.. a bit too dangerous for you to be given proper warrior training." The queen gave a soft exhale. "Silverpool and I are asking that you took it easier, and maybe become a medicine cat apprentice, instead."

"I refuse to become a medicine cat," Antkit growled. "It's my dream to become an honored warrior, mother. I don't care how small I am, or how many moons it takes, but I _will_ become a warrior, even if it kills me. I thought you'd respect that."

Dappledberry gave a soft sigh. "I can't stop you, anyways. Just promise me you won't overdue yourself, my precious darling."

"I can't make that promise."


End file.
